


Fiddleford in Fairyland

by CeslaToil



Series: Fiddleford Appreciation Month [1]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: A Better World AU, Fiddleford Appreciation Month, Gen, M/M, Slice of Life, Some Enchanted Evening AU, friendships, the Fair Folk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-03-11
Packaged: 2018-10-02 13:57:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10219751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CeslaToil/pseuds/CeslaToil
Summary: Fiddleford McGucket, co-founder of the Institute of Oddology, heads to a strange new land and runs into a new friend.





	

**Author's Note:**

> My first entry for Fiddleford Appreciation Month! Enjoy friends!

Fiddleford had read plenty of stories about folks finding themselves in magical, faraway lands as a kid. He’d read each of the Narnia books over and over again, and had even kept an old, battered omnibus of the Oz books in his current private library, though in truth, he’d been more interested in all the strange, mechanical people like Tik Tok and the Tin Man than Dorothy’s silly adventures.

All the same, when the International Institute of Oddology had managed to discover an interdimensional access point to a place just as odd as Narnia and Oz right in the Oregon woods outside town, Fiddleford surprised everyone by volunteering to head the expedition. There were, of course, some doubts about this; though Fiddleford was a brilliant scientist and an integral part of the Institution, he was still a very anxious person, and his last journey, which had ended with an entire dimension disappearing all together, had left him shaken.

But, to his own shock, he insisted on going. He had grown used to the strange anomalies since he’d arrived in Gravity Falls some thirty years ago, even if most of the monsters and creatures that were drawn to this town were quite frightening. Magical creatures always seemed so charming, with the possible exception of Unicorns, who were just plain jerks. How scary could this magic dimension be?

So, after saying goodbye to Stanford that morning (a rather hug filled, warm affair that made Fiddleford second guess leaving), Fidds took a group of security officers and a few researchers and headed to the site that lay deep in the woods. It was a large, stone doorway in one of the deepest parts of the forest; strange ruins in a language none of the scientists had been able to identify were carved all over it, and an image of a sun and moon in eclipse loomed at the very top. Staring at this carving for too long sent a shiver down Fiddleford’s spine, which was not helped by the fact that nothing could be seen on the other side of the door.

Gulping, he reluctantly lead his team into the darkness, and for what seemed like hours they marched through the gloomy corridor, until they came across a bright light twinkling in the distance.

“Finally,” mumbled one of the security officers. “My feet are killing me.”

“I dunno,” whispered one of the younger officers, Cadet Corduroy, “You ever heard of looking out for oncoming trains when you see lights at the end of tunnels?”

It wasn’t exactly encouraging.

When they stepped out into the light, however, they were greeted by a lovely field of poppies that lay just by a river; beyond that was a large swath of farmland, and beyond that, a massive, dark forest.

“Golly, this is just beautiful,” said Fiddleford softly; the research team at once began to snap photos for documentation. “Just fantastical! Though I cain’t see where the reports of it being a magic dimension came from—”

Barreling from the woods came a monster, one that looked like a giant man with terrible, misshapen muscles and a lumpy, pale face with one eyelid drooping. It took one look at the tiny research team and let out a terrible, creepy cry that sounded like laughter before it lunged at them. Several of the researchers cowered and lost their heads entirely out of pure fear, but the security officers were made of tougher stuff, and took aim at the beast with their laser guns. Though they made several incredible shots that would have taken down a lesser foe, the terrible giant was completely unaffected by their attack.

“Fvb’yl qbza h spaasl jopjrlu, Jollw, jollw, jollw, jollw,” the beast snarled down at the security officers. The giant reached out one of its muscular arms and snatched Fiddleford up within the iron grip of his hands.

“Help!”

The beast leered down at Fiddleford with a dangerous look in its eyes. Or, maybe it was just sleepy. It was hard to make out facial expressions, as the giant looked like it had eaten a hive of bees and washed them all down with cold medicine: the result was a pale, lumpy faced giant who was even more terrifying up close than he was at a distance.

“Vo ohp Thyr! Ovd'z fvby zle spml,” the beast roared at Fiddleford, and just as the poor scientist thought he had reached his doom, a large rock slammed against the giant’s face.

“Kvu'a avbjo tl tvaolymbjrly,” the beast growled down to the ground. From what Fiddleford could see, a small girl in a yellow dress was _flying_ at the monster, raising her arms and making boulders ten times her size fly at the giant’s face.

“What in tarnation,” Fidds cried, the girl continued to attack and scream profanities at the giant while the beast still kept its grip around him. Soon, other strange, flying girls began to attack the giant; a girl with wild, magenta colored curls was throwing large cherries that exploded when they made contact against the giant’s face, and another, her dress as black as her skin and hair was a ghostly, inhuman white, lobbed arrows into the giant’s eye. The giant laughed creepily once more, the arrows were about as effective as the lasers had been.

“Unhand this man at once,” commanded a powerful voice near Fiddleford’s right, he couldn’t turn his head to see who was speaking.

“Fvb svvr zv zlef Ahufh!” The giant offered the speaker an eerie, wooden smile that chilled Fiddleford to the core.

“I don’t care; you will leave these visitors to our land in piece, now let him go,” the voice snapped at the giant.

“FVB HYL ALHYPUN TL HWHYA, AHUFH!”

Enraged, the beast suddenly released his tight fisted grip on Fiddleford, and the man felt a terrible lurch as he began to hurtle towards the ground, which was roughly sixty feet in the air. Before he gained too much momentum, however, something else snatched him up around his armpits and held him aloft. He hadn’t even been able to register the thought of who or what had caught him when a sensation like being sucked into a vacuum began to consume his whole body, and he found himself being laid down upon the ground.

“Boss!”

Cadet Corduroy knelt down next to Fiddleford, who was shaking and pale, his knees bouncing together uncontrollably, but otherwise seemed perfectly unharmed. Fiddleford looked up to see a winged creature in white and gold armor looking down on him as well as the young cadet.

 _Good lord, what am I even looking at right now_ , he thought dizzily.

“Keep him safe while I get rid of the giant,” the armored creature told the Cadet, who nodded. Cadet Corduroy gently sat up the older scientist; Fiddleford looked up to see a flash of brilliant, sparkling light, one last scream from the Giant, and it was at this he lost consciousness at last.

 *  *  *

When he woke about five minutes later, a tiny green creature that looked like a humanoid moth was flicking his nose with a stick.

“D’you think he died?” squeaked the creature to another, the pale, slender archer from before.

“I ain’t dead, get off my nose,” grumbled Fiddleford, who shooed away the green girl with a wave of his hand. Fiddleford still felt dizzy and disoriented, so he laid still while the others around him continued to talk.

“He has terrible grammar,” sniffed the white haired girl, who narrowed her black eyes at him disapprovingly. “Are you sure he’s really supposed to be a brilliant scientist?”

She had directed this question to Corduroy, who was a little disturbed by this strange creature, in no small part because she looked a bit like the ghost in the Japanese Horror franchise _The Creepy Woman and Her Cat-Son Who Yelled at American Tourists Until They Went Crazy_.

“He _is_ brilliant,” Wendy managed to choke out tersely, “He just gets a little freaked out by some of the larger monsters. He had a bad experience with one of the cryptids he and Dr. Pines encountered when they were younger; something called a Gremoblin tried to kidnap him, it shook him up a bit.”

“Yikes. Say no more,” said the girl in the yellow dress, the one who had thrown rocks at the giant’s head. Her entire body was made of different shades of orange and yellow, from her sunset colored skin with bright yellow freckles to her lava-red hair, which she wore in several small braids across her head. “I’ve dealt with my fair share of Gremoblins in the past and I’ll say one word: Daddy. Issues.”

“Those are two words, Mustardseed.”

“Can it, Cobweb!”

“Both of you move,” said the woman in white armor sternly. The three strange girls hovering over Fiddleford dispersed as the woman knelt down next to him. She removed her helmet; the woman had a lovely, dark complexion and curly hair the color of pink champagne that she kept bound up in a bun.

“Wow,” whispered Corduroy, “She’s pretty cute.”

“That’s Queen Titania,” hissed Mustardseed, “You can’t call the Queen cute!”

“Wow, ain’t you just the cutest thing,” Fiddleford loudly told the Queen. She laughed, a warm, friendly sound, thought Fiddleford, as she helped him to his feet.

“Well, it sounds like you’re not any worse for wear,” said the Queen, looking the old man over, “Let me know if you’re feeling any pain so we can get you medical treatment. Not everyone who faces the Gurrero Street Beast gets off so easy.”

“Well golly, I sure am grateful ya saved me ladies,” said Fiddleford, addressing the six women with good cheer.

“Sorry your first trip to Faerie had an overly exciting beginning,” said Titania, shaking Fiddleford’s hand. Midway through, however, she paused as she examined his face; suddenly, her eyes went wide and she shot her hand to her chest, as if she had seen a ghost.

“Oh my stars,” she whispered; turning to the other fairies, she cried, “I don’t believe it—it’s _McGucket!_ ”

Fiddleford and Corduroy shared a bemused look. How did the Queen of the Fairies know Fiddleford’s name?

“What? Come on Tanya, this guy looks nothing like McGucket,” said Mustardseed dismissively.

“My lady, the fight with the Gurrero Street Beast was exhausting,” chimed the girl with magenta hair, whose name was Peaseblossom. “Perhaps you’re just confused.”

Titania shot her servants a glare. Without a word, she pulled a wand from a scabbard at her side, and, after giving it a flick, she made a long, white beard and a floppy hat appear on Fiddleford’s face and head.

At this point, Fiddleford couldn’t think of anything to say other than, “Why does my beard have a bandage on it? Weird.”

The other four fairies screamed.

“Face stealer!” cried the green one, Moth, who began to kick Fiddleford in the shins.

“Ouch! Now you stop that,” chided Fiddleford, lifting the tiny winged girl into his hands. “Yer actin’ like a conswalloping hogwash salesman on the fourth of july!”

“… Yup, it’s him,” Titania nodded her head in triumph. She made the beard and hat vanish by waving the silver wand carefully, returning Fiddleford to his normal state.

“I don’t understand… how can this man still be McGucket,” said Peaseblossom, scrutinizing the older scientist with narrowed eyes.

“I told you, he’s a face stealer, _Duh_ ,” squeaked Moth, still waving her fists wildly at Fiddleford.

“Well, my name is Fiddleford McGucket,” he admitted, “and my team and I are from an institution that studies the oddities of the universe—in fact, we came all the way from our world to study yours! I think we’re the only version of our dimension that can travel to different worlds, but it’s entirely possible that you ran across a version of me from an alternate dimension?”

“We did recently open up a permanent portal to Earth,” said Titania slowly, “It’s entirely possible that the portal is available to all the different possible earths as well?”

“It’s a shaky theory, but the only one we have to work with in the present,” nodded Fiddleford. He frowned, however, when he realized that at any moment, an alternate version of himself could come waltzing into Faerie and possibly destroy the entire dimension should they accidentally run into each other.

“We should probably leave,” Fiddleford turned to Corduroy, “The risk of dimensional collapse is too high if an alternate me is on the loose—I couldn’t bare to repay my rescuers by accidentally destroying their home!”

“Nonsense,” said Titania, clapping her hand on Fiddleford’s shoulder. “McGucket rarely visits this dimension, and surely we can find a way to send a warning about the possible danger. I’ll have my servants send a letter explaining the whole thing. In the meanwhile, why don’t you and your team stay at my old family home? You’d be able to set up base and have access to our library if you needed to gather some research on Faerie’s history and culture.”

“You’d really do all that for us?” Fiddleford asked excitedly, hardly believing the institute’s good fortune.

“Anything for a good, old friend,” said Titania warmly. “Who, now that I think about it, is actually a new friend? A new old friend, perhaps we should say? Oh, who cares, everybody back to Eclipse Manor for a feast!”

                                                                                                                                      *  *  *

Eclipse Manor, a country chateau just outside of a small village in the woods, was quite beautiful with a quiet, comfortable elegance. The research team immediately began snapping photos and writing down descriptions of the comfortable, elegant mansion, and didn’t stop taking notes until Fiddleford chided them into putting those things aside when the Queen called them all to dinner.

It was a wonderful feast of roasted chicken, baked sweet potatoes, buttery dinner rolls and a spinach salad—it reminded Fiddleford of Sunday dinners with his family when he was a child. There was, however, a slight incident when one of the security officers refused to take a bit.

“Would you like something else,” asked the Queen, offering security officer Ramirez a concerned look, “I’d hate for any of my guests to go hungry.”

“Um…” Ramirez looked highly uncomfortable, Fiddleford could see beads of flop sweat beginning to drip down his forehead as the table turned his attention to him.

“What, do you think our food sucks or something,” said Mustardseed aggressively. Titania shot Mustardseed a nasty look as Ramirez recoiled at her accusation.

“No! Um, no I really like food, little fairy dood,” said Ramirez nervously.

“Then eat up, Ramirez,” Fiddleford said, raising his glass of wine with good cheer, “I wasn’t raised to let anyone waste food at the dinner table.”

“Yeah but—oh man, what if the food turns out to be enchanted and we get stuck here forever like in all the fantasy books! This place is nice but I’d miss my grandma!”

Fiddleford grimaced, he thought for sure the Queen would have been offended, but she merely laughed again.

“Oh, you poor thing,” said Titania, patting a now mortified Ramirez’s arm kindly. “I assure you, food chain spells have long since been made illegal in this land, but if you would like, I can get somebody to run back to your dimension and get you something else.”

Relieved that the Queen wasn’t mad at him and that dinner wasn’t cursed, Ramirez assured her that he’d eat what was put out in front of him, and soon everyone was tucking in.

In addition to the fine food, the research team’s hosts were all lively conversationalists: Mustardseed and Corduroy were arm wrestling each other once the dishes had been cleared away, Moth kept daring Ramirez to try different kinds of food, a challenge he approached with unwavering bravery no matter how odd the dish was, and the researchers hung onto every word of Peaseblossom’s stories about the history of Faerie, which kept getting interrupted by Cobweb, who would add bawdy, off-color comments about the story much to her embarrassment.

Meanwhile, as all this was happening, Titania and Fiddleford were quickly becoming the best of friends; she asked him quite a few questions about the Institute and listened intently.

“Fascinating—so you run the robotics department? Whatever made you decide to lead an expedition,” asked Titania, who was trying to urge her small son, Daya, into finishing his sweet potatoes as she spoke to him.

“Well,” said Fiddleford, taking a swig from his wine glass once more, “I guess you could say I was curious—we used to read fairy stories all the time at my house when I was a kid, and I guess I just wanted to see what it was really like.” He smiled at Daya, who was scowling at his sweet potatoes with unmingled dislike.

”Well I certainly count myself lucky to meet you today,” said Titania, who’s smile faded to a frown when Daya rudely stuck his tongue out at the hated sweet potatoes. “Come on baby, eat!”

“No!”

“I’m glad to have met you too,” said Fiddleford earnestly, “I probably would have been eaten up by that giant, completely unlike how this little fella ain’t eating his taters.”

“Taters are yucky,” screeched Daya.

“Well, if you don’t want ‘em, I’ll steal ‘em for ya,” said Fiddleford, reaching his fork over to Daya’s plate.

Daya’s eyes grew wide, and without any warning, he began to shove handfuls of potato into his mouth to keep Fiddleford from grabbing any.

“My taters!”

“Well, darn, guess I’ll go without,” said Fiddleford with mock disappointment as he winked at Titania.

“I should invite you over more often,” said Titania, impressed. “Maybe then Daya would actually eat his vegetables.”

“Comes with lots of practice—the institute offers a childcare program to any wayward interdimensional refugees that come across our part of the universe,” said Fiddleford brightly. “I’ve had to coax my fair share of kids into eating their veggies more times than I can count!”

“Perhaps I’ll give you a call when Daya’s old enough to start school then,” said Titania warmly.

“We’d be happy to have him,” said Fiddleford, just as kindly.

“Now, would you mind joining me in the library? I want to show you the place where you can keep your research handy while you’re staying here,” said Titania, standing up from the table.

“Sure shootin’, lead the way,” said Fiddleford, and the two, along with Daya (who was now wearing his dinner across his face), left the rest of the researchers alone in the great hall.

 *  *  *

            The library was a magnificent place, filled with large, mahogany bookshelves that towered over Fiddleford and the Queen as they walked through its aisles, the sweet, comforting scent of old books filling the air like gentle incense. At the end of the room by a roaring fireplace was where the reading area had been arranged—polished wooden tables and comfortable, chintz chairs lay out before them, and the two took a seat opposite one another on the chairs.

            “Care for a chocolate?” asked Titania, indicating a box of chocolates on a nearby coffee table. “And by that I mean please eat them so I won’t. I have enough trouble getting my kid to eat vegetables as it is, what will he think when he sees that I’m constantly eating chocolate.”

            For his part, Daya was slowly starting to doze off as he cuddled close against his mother’s side.

            “Well, I guess I got room for more,” said Fiddleford, reaching over to open the box. He spied a photograph that was kept on the table next to the chocolates, and gasped. He recognized quite a few people present—Ramirez and Corduroy for one, along with Ford, who looked much grayer and rugged than his own Ford back at home, two kids that looked like Ford’s own little niece and nephew from Piedmont, and another man, who, though a bit thicker around the middle and with a more mischievous glint in the eyes, could have been Ford’s double. Titania and her girls were also in the picture, each smiling and laughing over something just off camera.

            “I’ll be,” whispered Fiddleford, “It’s Ford’s family!”

            “Yes,” nodded Titania, a slightly worried tone tinting her voice as she spoke, “Your… partner, correct?”

            “A little bit more than that,” said Fiddleford proudly, indicating the ring on his left hand with a smile. He pursed his lips as he gazed at the photo, pausing at the two twin brothers before saying, “I take it the Ford you know is on better terms with his twin than mine is?”

            “Oh? Are your Pines twins not getting along,” said Titania with a frown.

            “Well,” said Fiddleford sadly, “I tried getting Ford to talk to Stan for years, or at the very least, invite him to our wedding, but we haven’t been able to find him. It’s like he fell off the face of the earth.”

            “I’m sorry to hear that,” said Titania, who hugged her son tightly at this confession, “I know how difficult it is when a family member to go missing. I hope you’ll be able to reunite with him.”

            “Me too, at least for Ford’s sake—he wasn’t on the best terms with him, but I think he’d take it hard if he never got to speak with his brother again,” said Fiddleford quietly. He then smiled and held up the photo as he said, “but this proves that it’s possible, don’t ya think? That they could work everything out.”

            “Of course it does,” said Titania, who at last gave into temptation and grabbed a piece of chocolate from the box. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a family I’ve liked more than the Pines in a long time. I’m sure your version could be just as happy in time. By the way, if you ever do meet Stan again, don’t tell him I said that. I have a reputation to maintain as the best head of our respective found families, and I can’t have him strutting around knowing I said he was better at something, I wouldn’t bear it.”

            “It sounds like you’re awful fond of him to me,” said Fiddleford, wagging his eyebrows knowingly at the Queen. She playfully tossed the piece of chocolate she was holding at him, but he quickly caught it in his mouth.

            “While we’re on the subject,” said Fiddleford, his mouth full of chocolate caramel as he spoke, “Do you mind if I ask about my alternate self? I’ve been meaning to gather information about alternate timelines and how different dimensions compare and contrast, but it’s too dangerous of a risk to meet up with an alternate me! We know of one fella who was able to jerryrig up a whosmajig to keep himself from dissolving along with alternate versions of himself, but he ain’t saying anything to the institute—he has some sort of silly gentleman scientists feud with Stanford for some damn fool reason. So, if’n you don’t mind me asking, your majesty… what am I like?”

            The Queen’s smile faltered, and she grew quite pensive until she finally spoke.

            “You’re a bit balder… and with quite a few less teeth,” she said, looking away for a moment.

            “Oh,” said Fiddleford, frowning. He figured that at least a few different versions of himself wouldn’t age quite as well as he had, and besides, his habit of tearing out his hair when he was anxious probably hadn’t done him any favors. But why did the Queen look so sad?

            “Is something the matter,” asked Fiddleford.

            “Well… I don’t know if I’m the best person to tell you this,” said Titania, who began to stroke her son’s hair nervously, “after all, I only know a little piece about what happened from the version of Stanford I met. There was an incident when you were younger where you fell through a portal; some kind of accident that left you traumatized. You… made a gun that erased memories.”

            There was a trickling, icy sensation that shot down Fiddleford’s back. He had remembered the fight with the Gremoblin, the horrible things he had seen—he had wanted it all to go away so badly, and he thought the gun would be the perfect solution. At Ford’s constant insistence about the possible, dangerous side effects, however, he allowed Ford to destroy his invention.

            “What happened,” said Fiddleford, gulping.

            “It took a severe toll that affected your mental health for decades,” said Titania, her voice soft and full of sorrow. “It took ages for you to recover. You were living on the street.”

            Fiddleford couldn’t describe what he was feeling in that moment exactly—just a sort of lingering shock that a person who narrowly missed being hit by a car would have felt, the dreadful horror of what could have been.

            “… How am I now?” asked Fiddleford slowly after a long time.

            “Well… the Fiddleford I know is now living in a mansion after earning a fortune in inventing patents,” said Titania, who took Fiddleford’s hand and gently squeezed it as she spoke, “He has lots of close friends, and I’m fortunate enough to consider myself one of those friends. Furthermore, just about a week ago, he finally got engaged to his version of Stanford.”

            “He waited that long? Figures he’d take near about forever to get around to it,” said Fiddleford, and for a moment, the mood was light again, and he and the Queen shared a good laugh.

            “It’s getting late,” said Titania, eying the clock on the fireplace mantle. “I need to get my son to bed, and I’m sure you and your team need the rest. I’ll show you to your rooms, if you need anything, don’t hesitate to call on any of my girls.”

 *  *  *

            The bed was soft, and his stomach was full, and though his mind was still churning from what the Queen had told him about his double, Fiddleford McGucket easily found himself in a deep, comfortable sleep in his first night in Fairyland.

*  *  *

Fiddleford would later look back on his time in Faerie as one of the best research experiences of his career. For example, the library where the research team had set up their base was vast and plenty in books about the history and culture of Faerie, and Titania was more than happy to point out which books were more helpful than others.

            “Look at this,” said Fiddleford one morning when the Queen had stopped by to visit the team. He held up a large, leather-bound book that was embossed with ornate flowers on the cover. “I think I found something that might come in handy,” he continued, flipping through some of the pages as he spoke, “it’s some kind of journal written about a few hundred years ago, maybe it’ll show us something about the past we haven’t seen before—”

            “Oh, hell no!” Titania’s face was a mixture of amusement and horror as she laid eyes upon the book. “That’s my diary from when I was a dorky teenager,” the Queen explained, her face flushed as she tried to take the book from Fiddleford.

            “Oh? Well that’s even better,” Fiddleford chuckled, an impish grin painted across his face as he held the book out of her reach, “I cain’t recall if I’ve ever read a first hand account about the awkward teenage years of a Queen before!”

            “Give me that!”

            “ _Never!_ ”

            Aside from some lighthearted teasing here and there, however, the Queen remained and invaluable ally to the research team’s mission. Though Titania was often busy in political briefings and in her office performing the difficult duties of running a country, she would make time to visit Fiddleford and the others, even going so far as to consent to giving brief interviews about her life and responsibilities as the Queen of the Fairies. It had been she who had suggested Fiddleford interview other citizens beside herself, and so, with either Corduroy or Ramirez in tow, Fiddleford traveled the countryside and began conducting interviews with the people of Faerie.

            What interesting people they were too—creatures that he had only ever seen in storybooks could be found in every crevice of this strange land. There were ogres who sang and danced in critically acclaimed musicals, leprechauns that baked cupcakes for a living, centaurs that bussed tables at bars run by dwarves; there was even a man who claimed to be the eighth-and-a-half president of the United States, who was now mayor of a small town just a few miles away from Eclipse Manor. Everyone seemed to have a story, and Fiddleford gladly collected his or her thoughts with the help of his team.

            At the end of every exciting day, Fiddleford and his team would return to Eclipse Manor, where they would eat a hearty, delicious dinner wit the Queen and her family, and would spend the rest of the evening playing games in the garden or watching movies in the Queen’s parlor.

            It was a fine, comfortable sort of life; Fidds couldn’t remember a time when he had felt more at ease since he and Stanford had founded the Institute thirty odd years ago. Fiddleford jokingly wrote to his husband one day that might just try to move him and the rest of the family to Faerie full time. He was in no hurry to rush back to the never ending bustle that came from running an Institute of the Odd when things were so relaxing in this magic kingdom.

            Things changed, as they inevitably do, when another Fiddleford McGucket had shown up at Eclipse Manor’s gates one sunny afternoon.

           *  *  *

            Fiddleford woke up to find six tawny kittens crawling over his stomach. He could see Prince Daya standing by his armchair, giggling as he placed a seventh kitten on the old man’s belly.

            “ _Kitty invasion_ ,” Daya squeaked as he bent down to pet the mama cat, a lovely Abyssinian who luxuriated at the attention.

            “Oh no,” said Fiddleford in mock-horror. Scooping up the kittens into his arms, he gave each of them a quick kiss on top of their little heads. “What am I going to do with all these kittens? How could this have happened?”

            “You sleepin’!”

            “Yes I was,” said Fiddleford, yawning as he gently placed the kittens on the ground next to their mama. “Musta dozed off while I was reading. Any idea where the rest of my team went, little guy?”

            Daya shrugged. Regardless, Fiddleford patted him on the head and gazed at the clock on the mantle. It read two in the afternoon—golden sunshine was pouring into the windows of the library. It was silly to spend the day cooped up inside, thought Fiddleford, he would take his research with him into the garden this afternoon. Daya toddled after him as he made his exit from the stuffy library into the main hall.

            Fiddleford was just passing by Titania’s office when suddenly, he heard several voices crying out at once. He looked up and found Ramirez, Corduroy, and all four of Titania’s fairy friends were barreling down the corridor towards him, each with looks of complete terror etched upon their faces. Before he could even begin to ask what the matter was, all six of them crashed into him, forcing him to fall against the heavy oak door into Titania’s office. Fiddleford landed with a thud on the soft carpet of Titania’s office, the back of his head throbbing as he tried to make sense of what just happened.

            “What are you doing,” hissed Titania, who was sitting at her desk with a stack of papers laid out before her. “Don’t barge in here like stampeding rhinos, what if I was seeing somebody important? Get out, I have work to do!”

            All at once, the intruders all began talking fast and loud, so much so that it was impossible to make out a word that was being said. Fiddleford lay there on the floor, saying nothing for lack of any explanation as to why he always seemed to end up in these sorts of predicaments.

            “Silence!”

            The group shut up. Titania rose to her feet and glared down at the intruders disdainfully. With a sigh, she pinched the bridge of her nose and said, “Peaseblossom, what is the meaning of this?”

            Peaseblossom cleared her throat and said, “Look out the window!”

            The Queen, annoyed and tired, turned to see what Peaseblossom was fussing about, and after peering out the great glass window of her office, let out a horrified gasp. Her hand shot to her mouth, muffling her screams.

            “What is it,” said Fiddleford, who was now scrambling out of the dog pile. His eyes widened in terror. Treading down the path towards the mansion were two old men, one who he instantly recognized as Stanford, wearing a tired old sweater and a contented smile as he held the hand of the other man, who was a complete stranger to Fiddleford. By the looks the Queen and her friends were giving him, however, he was able to make a guess who it might be.

            “That’s _me?_ ”

            “It is,” said Titania solemnly.

            “Oh, man, what are we gonna do?” cried Ramirez, who was clawing at his face in his anxiety, “If he finds Dr. McGucket we’re done for! I don’t wanna deal with the existential horror of vanishing forever!”

            “I do,” whispered Cobweb cheerfully.

            “What are they even doing here in the first place,” Titania asked, angrily turning to her servants for an explanation. “If I’m not mistaken, I sent you four out with a letter three weeks ago letting them know about an alternate Fiddleford staying here! Care to explain what exactly went wrong with that incredibly simple task?”

            “Um, well, about that…” said Peaseblossom, looking incredibly guilty.

            “It’s all her fault, not mine,” said Mustardseed, who nonetheless proudly clapped Peaseblossom on the back.

            “We ran into some… unpleasantness along the way,” Cobweb explained.

            “Peaseblossom got into a fight with all the gnomes and she broke their faces,” cried Moth excitedly, “because they stole the note and said you were mean for not marrying them!”

            “They ripped it up and called you—well, they called you something really inappropriate, and sexist, and I’m not going to let them say gross, chauvinist things about the queen,” said Peaseblossom, looking down at her feet in shame.

            “Aw, Sweet Pea,” said Titania, her expression thawing as she knelt down to give Peaseblossom a hug, “I appreciate that, I really do, but couldn’t you have just told McGucket the message in person?”

            “Well… I thought we did… sort of,” said Peaseblossom, looking even more embarrassed than ever.

            “We let Moth tell them,” said Cobweb bluntly.

            “What… what exactly did you tell them,” said Fiddleford, his heart drumming rapidly in his chest as his alternate self drew closer to the mansion. Eclipse Manor was a large place, but there was no way he could hide from his alternate self forever.

            “I thought I was pretty clear,” said Moth, shrugging. “I threw a big old rock through the window of his mansion and screamed ‘Don’t go near my house or you’ll die!’ Then I ran off before he could call the cops. Do you think I should have thrown a bigger rock?”

            “I honestly don’t know what we expected,” sighed Mustardseed.

            “Potatoes and Molasses, there ain’t no time to lose,” said Fiddleford, his knees bouncing together rapidly as he paced around the room. “We gotta get out of here before I meet myself—er, before me meets him—ah, before, oh, who gives a gosh dang right now, IF WE SEE OR TOUCH EACH OTHER, WE’RE ALL DONE FOR!”

            “Hey, hey, breathe,” said Titania, patting her friend on the back comfortingly, “no need for caps lock—we’ll stop the two of them from entering and calmly explain the situation.”

            “Or,” said Corduroy dryly, “We can just have your servants kidnap Dr. Pines and that’ll keep him distracted.”

            “Pardon?” said Titania, and both she and Fiddleford heard a screech out the window that sounded like an enraged feral cat. Mustardseed and Cobweb had snuck out of the office, unseen by the rest of the group during Fiddleford’s panic, and were now currently lobbing a very annoyed Stanford Pines back and forth in midair like an oversized volleyball above an infuriated McGucket. The old hillbilly spat, cursed and at one point began to angrily hambone at the two fairies, demanding they put his fiancé down at once, but to no avail.

            “Well… I suppose that’ll work,” said Fiddleford, who knew they had to keep moving if they wanted to make their escape. He turned to Ramirez and Corduroy, and businesslike, he said, “get the research team into the library at once—we have a lot of data to take with us and we’ll need to move quickly.”

            The security officers nodded, both bolting out of the room to catch the others once he had finished speaking. Fiddleford sighed; he wished he didn’t spend most of his last day in Faerie taking a nap. There still felt like so much he could do in this strange, marvelous land, it was a pity to say goodbye so soon.

            “Are you really going to leave already,” said Daya, who pouted at the old man in disappointment.

            “I hate to leave early, little guy, but it ain’t safe for me to be here anymore,” said Fiddleford, once again patting the boy on the head.

            “We’ll see each other again,” reassured Titania, who took Fiddleford by the hand as they headed towards the library. “We’ll just have to figure out a way to coordinate these little visits first.”

*  *  * 

            There was a mad rush trying to get all of the research that the team had collected into transportable boxes and bags; eventually, Titania ended up enchanting a sturdy, burlap bag to hold everything in one place so the team could get moving at once. Once everything was secure and in its place, Titania waved her wand and teleported the group back to the entrance of the ruins, the portal that lead out of Faerie and back to their own home.

            “We were going to have a party for your going away,” said Titania, giving Fiddleford a firm hug as the team began to disappear one-by-one through the gateway, “But I suppose we’ll just save that for the next time you visit. Here. I wanted to give you this before you left.”

            She reached into her purse and pulled out a framed picture, the exact copy of the photo Titania kept in the library of Alternate Fiddleford’s family.

            “Tanya, you are a _treasure,_ ” said Fiddleford, pulling the Queen into yet another bear hug. As he pulled away, he smiled and pulled out an envelope from his sweater pocket.

“Now, before I go,” said Fiddleford, handing the envelop to the Queen, “Do you mind passing something along for me?”

            “Of course,” said Titania with that signature, warm smile of hers.

            “Make sure my alternate self gets it,” said Fiddleford, who felt a wave of melancholy crash over him as he turned to face the dark entrance back to his own world.

            “I shall. Have a safe journey home, Fidds. I’ll miss you.”

            “Likewise, your Majesty.”

            With that, Fiddleford stepped through the doorway and with great reluctance, left the world of Faerie behind.

 *  *  *

            Titania arrived back at Eclipse Manor as soon as Fiddleford and his team had left, and, after getting her girls to release Ford and calming down a very angry McGucket, she explained all about the other Fiddleford’s visit, and apologized profusely for not telling them earlier.

            “This could have been a serious disaster,” said Ford gravely. He remembered hearing the horrific account of the imploded dimension during his own stay at the Institute. To think such a chilling fate could befall his own Fiddleford was too awful to even imagine. “I’m glad you stopped us when you did.”

            “What a bad time to invite ya to the engagement party next weekend,” said McGucket; he didn’t quite understand the weight of what had almost happened, but was relieved that everything had sorted itself out.

            “When he left,” said Titania, presenting the envelope to the couple with a wave of her wand, “He said he wanted you to have this.”

            Nervously, Fiddleford reached out and took the envelope, ripping it open to find a letter addressed to him:

            _Dear, Well, Myself,_

            _This is all probably very confusing, but I come from a different timeline where I run an Institute with my Stanford. I’ve seen lots of things in my day since we managed to get that conflabbing portal under control; some of it wonderful, and some of it as terrifying as that first day we faced the Gremoblin when we were younger. What I want to tell you most though is this: you’re doing fine. You’ve got some darn wonderful people in your life, and they seem awful glad to have you in theirs._

_Be sure to keep Stanford in line—mine’s pushing seventy and he’s still as reckless as ever. Whatever would they do without us?_

_Wishing You Well,_

_F.H. McGucket_

He held the letter for a long time after he read it, and, after being asked by both the Queen and Ford if he was feeling alright, McGucket tucked the letter into his pocket, where he would keep it for the rest of his life.

 *  *  *

            In another dimension, far away, Fiddleford McGucket settled back into his own bed. No matter how fabulous and interesting Faerie had been, thought Fiddleford as he drifted off to sleep, there was nothing quite like the comfort of your own bed after a long time away from home.

**Author's Note:**

> BTW, the giant attacking Fiddleford is supposed to be Tommy Wiseau, and yes, he's speaking in Ceasar Cipher. Have fun trying to figure that out.


End file.
